


The Viscount's Daughter  and the Horse

by Liza_Taylor



Series: Promptober 2020-Sylbern/Sylvadetta Edition [30]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Bernadetta von Varley Needs a Hug, F/M, Fairy Tale Style, Fluff, Horses, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27276670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liza_Taylor/pseuds/Liza_Taylor
Summary: At first Bernadetta was frightened about the new stallion her father bought, but then she discovers he isn't a horse at all but a man cursed by a witch.Prompt: Spells
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier & Bernadetta von Varley, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Bernadetta von Varley
Series: Promptober 2020-Sylbern/Sylvadetta Edition [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947940
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	The Viscount's Daughter  and the Horse

**Author's Note:**

> This one really got away from me, haha. I really wanted to give it that fairy tale vibe to it and that meant it kept getting longer and longer. lol

Bernadetta’s favorite horse was the one her father bought with the plans of making him a studhorse. A beautiful stallion with a dark red coat, the mane and tail a dark brown.

When he was first brought to the Varley property, he was wild. He refused to let someone sit on him and he refused to obey any commands asked of him. A few times a stablehand attempted to break him but he would not be broken and obey their will.

Bernadetta kept far away from him whenever she had her lessons. For some reason his dark brown eyes set her on edge. It was like he was hyper intelligent and seemed to understand more than what he was letting on.

One day she had fled into the stables to hide. Her father was in one his moods and she needed to get away before he locked her up or did worse. The stallion drew her attention with a few snorts and backed up in his stall. When she didn’t move, he neighed louder at her and lightly kicked his stall door with a foot.

“Do you want me to go in there with you?” she asked in disbelief.

The horse nodded and backed up.

She didn’t have long to take in the fact the horse seemed to understand her as she could hear her father coming down the path. Honestly she would rather be kicked to death rather than be in her father’s clutches at the moment.

As she stepped into the stall and huddled in the corner, the horse had stepped forward, effectively blocking her from view of anyone looking into the stall.

“Thank you,” she whispered after her father had left the stables, being unable to find her there.

The horse gently lowered his head to her face and with a shaking hand, she gently stroked his muzzle. He let out a soft breath but didn’t move from her touch. In fact he seemed to move a lot slower, as if he was afraid of scaring her.

The next day when she came down to the stables and went to tack up her usual horse, the stallion had started acting up in his stall. He only quieted when Bernadetta approached him. From the look in his eyes, she realized the stallion was giving her permission to ride him. Of course the stablehands fought against the idea at first, she was the only daughter of the viscount and it wouldn’t do if she hurt herself since he was such a violent beast. However when they saw how the stallion was quiet and gentle with her, they let her do it, a few of them close by to contain the stallion if needed.

Of course it was unneeded, Bernadetta was able to set the saddle and halter on him without him protesting and he let her get on his back. He was much taller than her usual horse and it took her a bit to get used to his gait but he was patient and gentle with her. Soon she realized she didn’t even need the halter, she just needed to dig her fingers into his mane and he would go wherever she asked him to. He was an intelligent beast. She ended up going with Crimson for his name in reference to his dark red coat.

However she was the only one he was like that with. Anyone else that tried to ride him would immediately be thrown off. A few times she had to try to “convince” Crimson to mate with one of the mares but he refused and ignored her. For now he was just the horse she rode but she knew her father was not going to keep a “useless” stallion for long if he could not be used for what he was bought for. Especially since the only one he seemed to listen to was his pathetic excuse for a daughter.

One night, she woke up from her nightmares, sweat pouring down her back. A memory of long ago, her father tying her to a chair. She couldn’t go back to sleep, whenever she closed her eyes, she would see that room and that chair. Giving up, she threw on a robe and headed down to the stables. She wondered if Crimson minded if she hung out in his stall for the rest of the night. She didn’t want to be alone and if she awoke a human she would need to explain why she was awake.

Crimson was nice, he was safe and he never asked questions. She entered the stables and froze as she saw Crimson’s stall door was open. What made it worse was the man that was stepping out of the stall, carefully closing it behind him. There were lamps that were always lit, even in the dead of night and from the weak light, she could see he was tall, probably over six feet. Hair a dark red, his eyes wide and brown.

He was also completely naked.

His head snapped in her direction and those eyes widen. “Don’t scream Bernie,” he said quickly, his voice low and husky.

Bernadetta squeaked. How did he know her name!? Was he spying on her!? Was he stalking her? That had to be it right? That was why he knew her name and knew why she was here. Wait. “What did you do to Crimson!?” She grabbed the closest thing to her, a pitchfork. She held it shaking in her hands.

“Crimson is fine, he’s alright. He’s doing well.” He took a step towards her, his hands out. “Give me the pitchfork Bernie.”

“Where is he!?” She knew if Crimson was here, he would have attacked this man, especially if he was trying to take Crimson away. She pointed the end of the pitchfork at him. “S…Stay back!”

“It’s uh, it’s complicated. Bernie, put down the pitchfork so we can talk.”

“I’m going to scream! And then everyone will come and you’ll get arrested and…and…” What about Crimson? Would her father care enough to look for the stallion?

“Don’t scream Bernie, please,” he begged. “It’s I…”

She sucked in a deep breath, ready to release the most blood curdling wail.

“I’m Crimson,” he said quickly.

“Huh?” She stared at him.

“I’m Crimson. You always have to use the block to get on because I’m so tall and you always make sure to scratch me next to the ears because you noticed I like that. You always make sure my fur is clean and you make sure to pick out everything out of my hooves. Oh and I totally didn’t mind that one time you braided bows into my mane and tail.”

She stared at him wide-eyed. “You…Crimson?” she whispered.

“Please put down the pitchfork and let me explain…after I get some clothes okay?”

She blushed, her eyes shifting downwards as he pointed it out.

After Crimson got dressed(he had some clothes hidden in between the floorboards in the loft), he gestured for Bernadetta to sit down on the bench that was used when one was taking care of their tack. She did so, her brain still struggling to keep up with the information she had just received.

“How can you be Crimson?” she whispered.

He rubbed the back of his neck and turned to her. “I guess it would be best to just come out with it. My real name is Sylvain. To make a long matter short, a witch asked for my hand in marriage but I refused and in retaliation she cursed me by transforming me into a horse. Every night of the new moon, I am able to return to my human form for a few hours. A cruel trick on the witch’s part I assume so I will never forget I was once human.”

“You turn back into a human on the night of the new moon,” she repeated numbly. How long had they had Crimson? A few months. She remembered the stable hands complaining about missing clothes a while back but didn’t think too much of it. Could that have been because of him?

“But why are you here then?” she whispered, staring up at Crimson-no, Sylvain. This was not the horse she knew and cared about. This was a man. A very tall, broad shouldered, muscular man. “I mean why didn’t you escape when you had the chance? They were going to have you put down if you didn’t comply,” she whispered wide-eyed. If he had not warmed up to her then he would have been killed at least a month ago if not before.

“It…” He paused and grimanced, seemingly dipping back into thought. “It’s a requirement of the witch.”

“Requirement?”

“To break the spell. Apparently when you curse someone there needs to be an escape clause and well, I’m working on that part of it.”

“And your escape clause involves you living in my family’s stables?”

“Yes-no, well it’s hard to explain, a part of it, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck. It was odd but she could still see Crimson in Sylvain. It was just his stance and the way he pouted slightly as he seemed to be thinking things over.

“Is this the type of curse that you cannot give details on what you need to do?” Bernadetta tilted her head slightly. She had read about curses like that in books.

“Something like that,” he agreed.

“I see.” She picked at the edge of her nail. “Do you need help?”

His eyes widen. “You are going to help me?”

She gave him a shy nod in return. Maybe that was foolish of her but wasn’t that one did when they were confronted by someone under a curse? Also, in a way, she still thought of him as Crimson. Crimson the horse that looked out for her and took care of her. If him and the horse were one in the same then, it was Sylvain that did everything to help her.

“Thank you.” His voice was filled with relief. “I didn’t know how to ask you.”

“Is that a part of breaking the curse?”

“In a way, yes.” He winced as his stomach rumbled. “Sorry, I don’t usually eat much on the new moon because I wanted to eat human food.”

Bernadetta remembered the cook complaining a few times about the stores being off than what she expected it to be. Huh, a lot of the odd things around her home made sense now. “I’ll go get you something,” she said quickly.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”

She gave him a weak smile. “I am the Viscount’s daughter, I cannot get in trouble over this.”

After a quick trip to the kitchen, she returned with some bread, cheese and meat. She thought about bringing fruit and then decided against it. As a horse, he got treats of fruit all the time.

“Now this is the good stuff. Thanks a lot Bernie.” he laughed, stuffing his face with the bread and meat. Bernadetta sat on the bench, Sylvain on the ground as he watched him feast like a man starving. She had offered him the bench but he shook his head and stated the floor was fine.

“I’ve been wanting to ask…why do you call me Bernie?” All of the stablehands called her Lady Bernadetta and her father, well, he never really called her by anything besides “girl”.

“You call yourself that whenever you murmur to yourself. I assume it is the name you want to go by. That is, unless you want me to refer you as Bernadetta? Lady Bernadetta?”

“No, no, Bernie is fine, Bernie is perfect.”

“Bernie it is then,” he said softly.

Their eyes met and she could feel her heart pounding in her ears. He was handsome, she realized numbly, his features well defined and despite how messy his hair was, it looked deliberate. He was probably one of those that could roll out of bed and look perfect.

“I should probably get back,” she said quickly, getting to her feet. “I have lessons in a few hours and I should get some sleep.”

“Understandable. I’ll clean up after myself, don’t worry, no one will even know you were here.”

Despite those words, she could barely sleep, her mind still trying to comprehend everything that had happened. She was almost useless during her morning lessons, her etiquette lessons going worse than usual. Her teacher let her go early, out of pity probably and Bernadetta hurried down to the stables.

Crimson lifted his head over his stall door as she approached, those eyes intelligent and it reminded her of the man from last night. She gently stroked his muzzle and stared into those eyes. “Sylvain?” she whispered under her breath. “If it is you and I didn’t have a weird dream last night, tap the ground once.”

Crimson snorted and lifted a hoof and tapped the ground.

Her eyes widen and she looked up at his face. Crimson stared back at her and then blew out air to ruffle her hair. “I guess I have a lot of work to do then,” she murmured.

***

The second time Bernadetta went down to the stables during the night of the new moon, Sylvain was already dressed and waiting for her. She silently handed him the meat pies and ale she had swiped from the kitchen and after a quick word of thanks, he began scarfing them down. It was still hard for her to wrap her mind around the fact the man in front of her was the same person as the horse.

Over the past month, she spent as much time as she could in the library, looking for any kind of information on curses and witches. Most of it were fairy tale stories, the witches ugly and covered in boils. True love was the solution to an alarming amount of curses but if that was connected to his, then why was he spending time at her family’s stables?

“Uh, have you gotten closer to breaking the spell on you?” Bernadetta asked shyly.

“Not quite, still working on it,” he replied.

“What do you need to do?” she asked. Apparently it involved something on her father’s property but she didn’t have any details on what exactly it was since their conversation was cut short last month.

“It…”He grimaced and looked down at the meat pie. “I can’t say it.”

“You can’t?”

“It’s a part of the witch’s curse, I can’t say exactly what it is. But I am working on it and it is going well.”

“Uh, okay then…” She fell silent and debated on what to say next. Was there even anything to say? “Are your parents worried about you?” she blurted out, the silence getting so deafening she couldn’t take it anymore. Why did she have to be such an awkward person!?

“They probably are but they know I’m trying to break the curse so…” He shrugged. “Not much I can do right now regarding that.”

“How long have you been a horse?”

He thought for a moment. “I think around two years? Yes, two years.” He whistled. “It’s been a lot longer than I thought.”

Two years. She couldn’t imagine how that must have been for him.

“Maybe I could send a letter to your family? So they’ll know you’re safe.”

Sylvain hesitated and she winced. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have offered,” she said quickly.

“No, it’s okay, I know you wanted to help but…” Sylvain shook his head. “It would be best not to. I can’t tell you where I’m from.”

“Is that a part of the curse too?” she asked in surprise.

“In a way.”

She could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was struggling to be hedgy with her. It was obvious he wanted to give out more information than he was allowed to. She knew some curses had restrictions but Sylvain’s seemed ridiculous. “So…what should we do then?” Now that she was thinking about it, what did he do on the nights he was human?

“If you don’t mind, I would like to chat, it’s been a long time since I’ve last been able to really have a conversation with anyone. If you don’t mind of course?” He frowned. “Do you have lessons in the morning?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m free to sleep in.” Well, she had set her lessons for later in the day. Sure she would be done later but she would rather talk to Sylvain than not.

“Good.” 

Over the next couple of months she learned more about the man that was her horse. He was obviously someone of noble class like her based on his speech and his knowledge. He seemed to understand politics and took great interest when Bernadetta gave him news of the land. He also seemed to know about books and strategies and when she brought down a chess board for them to play, he beat her before she even realized what was happening. He seemed shocked by it as well and he begged Bernadetta to play with him again, stating that he would go “easier” on her. She humored him, she might be bad at chess but he was teaching her and she had to admit, that bright smile he gave her was worth it in a way.

One morning, she was heading down to the stables, some treats for Crimson in her bag, when her father stopped her.

“There you are. Put on something worthwhile, we have a guest.”

“A guest?” she whispered, her hands gripped tightly, one over the over. The only person that her father would personally come to tell her about a guest was someone that was here for her.

A possible marriage candidate.

She was escorted back to her room by a few maids and she winced and flinched as they prodded and poked at her to try and make her into something suitable. Her dress was long and floor sweeping, her hair pulled and held back by pins, makeup adorning her features. The girl in the mirror wasn’t her, it was someone pretending to be something they weren’t.

She followed the maid into the parlor and saw a gentleman perhaps a few years older than her. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles with ease but she could see the darkness that sat behind that tempered smile.

This man was like her father.

During the whole teatime, she focused on drinking the tea and eating the little teacakes, anything to focus her on not running away.

“We have a studhorse in the stables, we have been unable to successfully breed him but perhaps you would be able to do so, I heard your stables are quite good at that.”

Bernadetta looked up in horror, mentally kicking herself for not paying attention to the conversation.

“We know how to control unruly horses yes, even those that will not break,” said the gentleman.

“Father, Crimson is my horse,” she said softly. “He…he trusts me.”

The Viscount looked at her in disgust. “Yes, that is true, he allows her to ride him but that is all. He won’t even let the other stablehands touch him anymore.”

“Fascinating,” said the gentleman and Bernadetta cursed herself for not picking up on his name. “I will like to see this, Crimson then.”

“Bernadetta, why don’t you show our guest the way?”

Bernadetta gulped, stood. The gentleman held out his arm and she knew she had no other choice but to hold onto him as she led the way down to the stables. The conversation was light along the way, about the weather, his trip here. She knew what to say, the affirmation noises and the few words to push the conversation further and she did so.

This was the first time she was at the stables in one of her day gowns and she had to lift up the hem to avoid getting it dirty.

Smelling her approach, Crimson stuck his head over his stall. She could see it in his eyes as he took the situation in front of him, Bernadetta’s hand on the gentleman’s arm and he let out a loud snort.

“Oh, he is a beauty.” The gentleman pulled away from Bernadetta and went to touch Crimson’s face. Crimson let out a loud squeal and moved his head back, out of range of the gentleman’s touch. “I see, you are a feisty one.” He turned to Bernadetta. “Your father was correct I see in regards to him.”

“He’s a gentle horse,” Bernadetta said softly. She stepped forward and held out her hand and Crimson rested his muzzle in her palm and she stroked his head. Despite how calm he looked, she could tell his attention was on the gentleman, his body tensed up, as if ready for a fight.

“I see, he is like that with you. Are you able to ride him as well? I remember your father mentioning it.”

“Uh, yes I can.”

“Excellent, let us go on a ride to get to know each other better.”

Before she could protest, the gentleman had walked off and commanded a stablehand to get one of his own horses ready.

She looked wide eyed to Crimson, who just affectionately butted his head against her. “It’ll be fine, right?” she whispered to him.

Of course the first issue was since she was in a long dress, she had to ride side saddle. She was trained in it but she rarely did so. She could also tell Crimson was also confused slightly on how to respond and walk so she wouldn’t fall off.

“He is willing for you to ride without a halter or a switch?” asked the gentleman in surprise when she met him outside the stables. “How do you control him?”

“He just listens to where I want to go,” she said softly. Crimson’s ears were pulled back slightly as he regarded the gentleman and he tossed his head a few times. Bernadetta patted him a few times on the neck, in an attempt to calm him.

“Fascinating.”

The ride was just a quick one around the property, him asking questions about the Varley land and Bernadetta answering as quietly and as curtly as she could. She was happy when they were finally back at the stable, perhaps now he could be on his way and she could have some time alone caring for Crimson.

Alas, he did not leave right away when they got off their horses, instead he seemed to be waiting for her.

“I need to take care of Crimson,” she stammered. “He will not let anyone else touch him.”

“I can see that,” commented the gentleman, obviously noticing the other stablehands were giving Crimson a wide berth. “I would like to watch you care for him, perhaps I can get a few pointers on how to make him more accustomed to me.”

Based on how Crimson blew air out of his nose, that was probably not going to happen. However she couldn’t leave him alone with the sweat of the ride so despite her being in a gown, she did her best to care for him like she normally would. Like always Crimson helped her the best he could, moving and shifting so it was easier to for her to care for him. Usually this process would be relaxing for her however the gentleman’s eyes were boring into her back, taking in everything she was doing.

“It’s fascinating how intelligent he seems to be. There’s something in those eyes I haven’t seen on a horse before.”

Bernadetta gripped the brush tightly as she went to return it to the rack, hyper aware of him following her. “He is a very smart horse.”

“And yet he is unwilling to bred.” He sighed. “I can see why your father wanted that. He has the perfect body shape and the coloring is rare. And yet in almost a year he has only warmed up to you?”

“He just got used to my scent, that’s all.” She dropped the brush in the bucket and turned. “If you’ll excuse me, I have afternoon lessons to attend.”

“Of course. I will not keep you.”

Bernadetta fled from the stables, wishing the new moon wasn’t a few nights away. She wanted to talk to Sylvain about this.

***

The next morning, when she asked her maid what her schedule was for the day, it was surprisingly clear. Obviously her father wanted her to entertain this guest, Count Elias Berkel. Instead of doing so, she pretended to not understand the hint and hurried down to the stables to take Crimson out for a ride to avoid any interaction with him.

She led Crimson to one of her favorite trees in the pasture and sat down on a rock under it, Crimson by her side.

“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted to him. “My father is set on marrying me to him. The last suitors I was able to scare off by just being me but he was not deterred by me running away from the dinner table or floundering through post dinner conversation.” She had a feeing her father was set on the count due to him being so good with horses and probably made a deal he could not refuse. “I wonder if this would have happened if you were willing to breed with the mares.”

She winced, knowing how weird that sounded now. What would happen if Crimson did have foals? Would the foals be partly human or just regular horses? Also knowing that Crimson was Sylvain, it made her stomach feel funny, thinking of him having children with someone else, even if it was as a horse.

Her thoughts were going in way too weird of a direction.

Crimson snorted and blinked slowly at her, obviously not liking her comment.

“Sorry,” she murmured, picking at her nails.

He leaned down to her and lightly licked the side of her face. “Crimson, stop that.” She pushed his nose away. He let out a soft breath in her face, his eyes locking on hers. “I really wish you could talk to me now so I can know what to do.”

He let out a soft whiney and leaned into her.

A moment later, his ears perked and he lifted his head, a hoof pawing on the ground. Looking in the direction he was pointed at, Bernadetta froze as she saw Count Elias Berkle approach on one of the stable horses.

“There you are Lady Bernadetta. You should have invited me if you were going out for a ride.” If he saw anything off by Bernadetta’s normal attire, he didn’t show it. She wore her usual riding gear, it was modest as always but it was a pair of pants over a jacket, not something a lady should be wearing when entertaining guests.

“I wanted to take him out early in the morning,” she replied softly. “Crimson sometimes gets a little antsy in the morning so I like to let him run around a bit.”

“I see but it seems like he likes staying close to you. You really do have a bond with him.” The count jumped off his horse and picked up a basket from the back of his horse. “I brought lunch, why don’t we have a picnic?”

Bernadetta gulped. There was no way she could say no without making it an insult, especially since he was already here with a basket. “Of course,” she said.

With a small smile, he set up the blanket and gestured for Bernadetta to sit next to him. She settled down on the farthest corner of the blanket, her heart pounding uncomfortably in her chest. It was one thing to go for a ride near the stables, to be out here alone with him(besides the horses), it meant that her father had gotten far enough in the negotiations that it was a done deal. She was set to be married to him.

Count Elias pulled out a few plates of sandwiches and other small finger foods and set them on the blanket. “I have learned a few things about you from your father but I wish to know more from you, yourself. Please tell me about yourself, I would love to hear it.”

She picked up one of the sandwiches and picked at the edge of it. “I’m nothing special,” she said quietly.

“Nonsense, I am sure you have interests of your own. Your father mentioned embroidery? You are good at your hands then?” He gave her a wide smile.

She didn’t know why but it set her on edge, there was a double meaning to his words that she didn’t understand. Crimson snorted from nearby and out of the corner of her eye, she could see him edging closer to her.

“I do it sometimes,” she stammered. “Not often anymore. I just haven’t had the time.”

The count shifted closer to her on the blanket. “I’ve heard. Apparently you spend a lot of your time with that horse now. You will fit right into my family home, there are plenty of horses to keep you busy if you so like.”

“Ah yes, that’ll be good.” She leaned back but much to her dismay, he shifted closer to her. “We should probably get back, it looks like it is going to rain soon.” She gestured to the dark clouds in the distance. “Up here, the weather can turn quick.”

“We probably have some time left, why don’t we get to know each other a bit more?” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him.

Crimson let out a sharp squeal before coming up behind Bernadetta, tossing his head at Elias, his ears shifted back, his eyes wide.

The count released her and crawled backwards in surprise. Bernadetta’s wrist stung as she clutched it to her chest and shifted back as Crimson stepped forward, a physical barrier between her and the count.

Elias’s eyes darkened and she could see the storm brewing in them, similar to her own father when he got angry. Without a word, he got to his feet, and got on his horse and headed back to the manor.

Bernadetta didn’t realize how hard she was shaking until she felt Crimson’s head rest on her back. She turned to see he had sat down next to her and he offered his neck and she wrapped her arms around him, soaking her tears into neck. When she was finally calm enough to think straight, she glanced up at the sky and saw the clouds were coming in, dark and stormy.

When they returned to the stables, she could feel the tension brewing on the wind. The stablehands blatantly were not looking at her or would send her a quick apologetic glance before returning to their work. Crimson let out a soft whinny and nuzzled her shoulder as she cared for him.

Of course, she could not delay it forever and one of the stablehands gave her an umbrella as she headed up to the manor in the pouring rain. Her father and Elias was waiting for her in the parlor. Bernadetta knew this was bad as her mother was also there, her face pale as she sat on the couch, the farthest she could be from Bernadetta’s father.

She heard the news through ringing ears. Of course she tried to argue it but her father would not be persuaded. She could see it in Elias’s cold eyes, he knew he had won, this was just a formality, there was nothing to it.

Bernadetta rushed into her room, refusing to come out for the dinner, refusing her maids to get her ready for bed. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry.

However she did none of that.

It was a new moon and she waited until the night was dark before leaving her room. First stop, a few rooms to get supplies and then down to the stables. Sylvain was waiting for her on the bench, for once a smile did not light up his face as she walked in.

He held out his arms and without thinking, she put down the sack of food and fell into them, burying her face into his chest. She knew this was improper but with the event of the days piling up on her she couldn’t help but seek his warmth.

“Are you alright Bernie?” he asked softly, rubbing lazy circles on her back. His grip on her tightened. “Did _he_ do anything to you when you went back?”

She pulled back to look him in the eye. “No, he didn’t but he wants to do something to you. Sylvain, Count Elias convinced my father to put you down.” 

Sylvain’s jaw tightened and he looked to the side. “I see.”

“I tried to convince him.” She clutched tightly to his shirt. “I tried to tell him it was all a mistake and whatnot but he cited how you attacked him, he said Crimson is too overprotective of me to the point he would be utterly worthless as a studhorse. They’re going to feed you to the dogs tomorrow and they want to make a show of it.” She pulled away and gestured to the bag she brought with her. “I brought things for you to take with you, supplies and whatnot.”

Sylvain looked at the bag and then at her. “I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to! They’re going to kill you!” His face blurred. “Please. I can’t…you…”

He lifted up a hand and gently wiped the tears from her eyes. “If I run away, suspicion will fall on you. I can’t let them punish you any further Bernie.” He looked down at her wrist, the one Count Elias had grabbed and then gently ran his own fingers there, like he was trying to wipe away Elias’s touch on her.

“But if you die…” What would she do? The past few months had been bearable because of him. If Crimson wasn’t there, if Sylvain wasn’t there…what was she going to do?

“Everything will be alright Bernie, you are strong, you’ll think of something. Just trust yourself, trust your feelings. You’re braver than you know.”

Brave huh? She was anything but that. “What am I supposed to do?”

He put a hand on either side of her face and looked her in the eye. “Trust yourself. That’s all Bernie.”

Sylvain might say that, but she didn’t know what to make of it. After that, he shifted the topics to other things, mundane topics and ideas and they even played a few rounds of chess. As morning approached, he got up and went back into the stall and undressed. She turned her back to him as he shifted back from Sylvian to Crimson.

He let out a soft whinny to tell her he was done and she entered the stall and after hiding his clothes and the bag of supplies. She sat on the hay floor, Crimson lying down next to her, his head in her lap and she gently ran her fingers through his mane until her father and Count Elias came to retrieve her.

“It is unbecoming for a lady to be so attached to a beast,” said Elias, his eyes dark but she could see the smile behind them.

“I can see that,” replied the Viscount, his eyes a reflection of Elias’s without the smile. “Perhaps I should have spent more time making sure my daughter was into more feminine pursuits.”

Bernadetta didn’t say anything in response. She got to her feet, Crimson following her lead. As she stepped out of the stall, she saw a few of her father’s guards stationed within and outside of the stable along with, who she assumed, were Elias’s men. Obviously they were taking no chances.

“I’m surprised you did not free the beast in the night,” said Elias under his breath as she passed him.

She tightened her hands into fists, a lump in the back of her throat as she did not acknowledge the comment but walk with her father out into the training yard. A man stood waiting there, a sharp blade in hand. Elias had convinced her father to make this a show, to let her bare witness to the death of her precious horse, as without this, she would not believe her horse was dead and be able to move on.

Based on how Elias grinned, he knew he had won.

She knew he had won.

For once Crimson did not fight the stablehands as he approached the butcher of his demise. Why. Why didn’t he kick and fight back like he always did? Why didn’t Sylvain run away last night? He was smart, he could have lived and yet he stayed. Why did he do that?

“Wait,” she said as the man lifted the blade to cut Crimson’s neck. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her and she shook as she asked. “Please, let me say goodbye one last time?” She looked to Elias and wondered what he saw. A woman with tears freely flowing for a horse that meant so much for her. It was obvious the loss of the animal would break her. She could see it in how he calculated the risk. How more potent it would be if she was next to her horse when he was killed, the blood spray catching her in the face.

Elias nodded. “Fine. Go on.”

Bernadetta walked across the yard, Crimson lowering his head so she could hug it tight. “Why?” she whispered. “I’m not worth this.”

A soft breath of air left his nose. She leaned back and gently placed a kiss on his muzzle before resting her forehead against his, her eyes shut tight. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Sylvain.”

A cry of surprise came from nearby and then Bernadetta felt something different against her forehead, and arms wrap around her. She opened her eyes and yelped in surprise to see Sylvain standing there, human. He was clothed in fabrics of silks, a mantle of fur covering his back.

“What?”

“I knew you could do it Bernie,” he whispered, gently kissing her forehead.

“But…what?”

He looked behind her and she turned to see her father, the guards and the stablehands looking at the man who used to be a horse astonished. Count Elias on the other hand appeared pale.

“It cannot be.”

Sylvain had an arm around Bernadetta’s shoulders, keeping her close to him. “I expected you would recognize me, cousin,” he said coldly.

“Prince Sylvain, I did not, I assumed…”

Prince? She looked up at Sylvain in shock.

“You assumed I was still in the palace reading books and whatnot right? Well my parents did a good job in making sure my absence was not noticed in the past couple of years. I will say, it would be best to break off your engagement to Lady Bernadetta, for your own good.”

“Ah, yes of course.”

Bernadetta had never seen a man scramble away so fast in her life.

“And you,” continued Sylvain, looking to her father. “We will need to have a long discussion as well.”

“Ah, yes of course Prince Sylvain.” The Viscount bowed low before beginning to bark orders to the stablehands and guards. Bernadetta knew he was going to scramble to make the parlor room fit for a prince.

Sylvain sighed. “Oh, sorry.” He released her and stepped back. “It was just in the moment, I shouldn’t have-Bernie, don’t curtsey.”

“But you’re the prince,” she whispered, her eyes locked to the floor as she went over every interaction they had over the past couple of months. She had treated the prince like a friend! She also hated how she didn’t connect the dots that he was a prince. Sure she knew the names of the royal family but Sylvain was a popular name because the prince was named that. But she should have known! Only important people were cursed!

“Please, Bernie, I don’t want that, least of all from you.”

She glanced up and saw he looked slightly pained as he watched her. 

“You saved me Bernie.”

“I didn’t do anything,” she stammered.

He gently took her hands and kissed her fingertips and Bernadetta couldn’t help but blush. “You did. You broke the curse on me.”

“What? How?”

“It was twofold. One, I needed to fall in love with someone to the point that I would die for them, and the second was that whoever it was needed to love me back, not for my title or riches but for who I am as a person. Only then would the spell be broken.”

“Oh,” she whispered.

“So I will say, I owe you a lot Bernie. Hey, are you okay?” He waved his hand in front of her face. “Bernie?”

She squeaked and buried her face in her hands, what he said finally catching up to her. “You…I…”

Sylvain laughed. “You’ve probably read all about it in your books. True love is a popular way to break curses isn’t it?”

“Yes, but…” She was Bernie. She was plain and boring, and definitely not someone a prince would fall in love with.

“No buts, I love you Bernie.” He gently put his fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him, his smile gentle. “I know it’ll take some time and I’m willing to wait. Although, I would like to take you back to the palace to get you away from here. You can have your own room, and there’s a ton of libraries and we even have our own stables.”

“But…can you do that?” Weren’t princes supposed to marry other royalty? Not a viscount’s daughter.

“Trust me, any woman that could break the curse on me is welcome to the palace with open arms. That is, unless?”

“No!” She clutched his shirt. “I…I’ll go with you.” Despite the trimmings, she could still see it in his eyes. This was the Sylvain and Crimson she knew.

“Great. I was hoping you would say that.” He gave her a side hug and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. As she squealed and blushed, he chuckled as he led the way back to the manor. “It will take some time but we’ll work on that. Don’t worry Bernie, as soon as I’m done talking to your father and arranging things, you will be safe.”

She nodded and leaned her head against his. She knew, deep in her heart that was true.


End file.
